bookbashuk Page 8
Page 8
It seems our Miss Elf is quite competent at being a food blogger. Kane closed the terminal, a sense of understanding washing over him. So Muirsey's "little hobby" of recording experiences had such an extension.
Chapter 21 Christensen's First Attempt
Kane casually followed "Elf in the Pot" and quickly browsed her past posts. The content mainly consisted of restaurant reviews and film analyses. The account had only been running for a year, and while it had gained some popularity due to its high-quality production, it was still some distance from becoming a top blogger. Clearly, Muirsey was very forward-thinking—she sensed the potential of personal media in high school and taught herself editing and production. Now, this account was bringing her considerable income, and it might even cover her college expenses in the future.
Kane quickly scrolled through the posts, feeling a kind of tedious "idling" feeling after a program had finished running. He suddenly wanted to see what those movies that Muirsey had highly recommended in her review were like. Coincidentally, they had all been released in theaters, and the hotel offered a small private home theater—the perfect way to while away the long night.
Kane left the room and headed for the elevator. As he passed room 0721, the door opened unexpectedly, revealing Christen's slightly surprised face.
"...Hi?" Christensen's voice carried a hint of barely perceptible panic. She had only wanted to go outside for some fresh air, but she hadn't expected to run into Kane.
“What a coincidence. I’m in 0726,” Kane replied calmly. The two hadn’t exchanged room numbers beforehand—it was always a little awkward for a lone man and woman to exchange room numbers in a hotel.
"Kane, where...where are you going?" Kristen tried to make her tone sound natural.
"The private cinema downstairs. Let's watch two movies that I've been interested in lately."
"A movie..." Christensen's eyes lit up for a moment, then a hint of hesitation flashed across her face as she asked cautiously, as if afraid of being rejected.
"Can... I come along?" she quickly added.
“I was just looking for something to do! And… there were few people in the hotel, and I was wearing a hat, so I felt safe and private…” Her voice trailed off as she spoke, as if she were trying to find a reasonable excuse to cover up her secret longing for the ordinary experience of “watching a movie with friends.”
“Okay.” Kane did not refuse.
Christensen's tense nerves seemed to relax instantly, and a childlike, pure joy bloomed on her face. "Great! I'll pay for today's expenses!" The confidence that belonged to the heir of the Wright family briefly overshadowed her timidity.
However, as she excitedly followed Kane downstairs to check into the private room, she clearly overlooked the friendly teasing in the receptionist's eyes and the fleeting embarrassment on Kane's face. They were being mistaken for a couple—private cinemas, with their comfort and privacy, had long been a popular choice for young couples.
Kane quickly regained his composure. Others' misunderstandings couldn't change the fact that he and Kristen were simply like-minded partners. When he entered the private room with snacks and drinks, Kristen had already sunk into a soft massage chair, and the projector was ready.
"The remote is on the table...you choose." Christensen's voice carried a long-lost sense of relaxation, as if a heavy burden had been lifted.
"Right now... I just want to relax." It seems that this perpetually tense young lady's accumulated fatigue has finally been ignited in a comfortable environment.
The movie "highly recommended by Muirsey" started playing, and Christensen was engrossed in it. However... her reaction seemed particularly "novel."
“Wow! Does Columbia really have such a place?” she asked, pointing to the bizarre scene in the movie.
"Urban legend embellished, artistic exaggeration," Kane explained.
"Why doesn't the protagonist contact the police directly? Wouldn't the government be more efficient in handling this?" She frowned, expressing her confusion about the protagonist's choice.
“Then there would be no story. This is… necessary for the plot,” Kane patiently guided.
"Oh..." Christensen seemed to understand, but not quite. Clearly, her childhood had been guided by her parents, immersed in scientific enlightenment, and after their passing, she had neither the inclination nor the energy. The logic of the film, compared to rational logic, was indeed more foreign to her.
“Wow, they kissed…” Christensen exclaimed softly as she watched the romantic scene.
“Classic elements,” Kane said, entering “analysis mode.”
"Like a constant in a mathematical formula, many directors like to add a love story. Some elevate the theme, while others... are just filler. If you're not afraid of being uncomfortable, you can watch the works of that director named Nian from Lungmen and see the lowest limits of cinematic form."
Kane was focused on deconstructing the film, completely unaware that Christensen beside her had already been caught in another "storm." The enclosed space, the dim lighting, the close proximity... these elements suddenly sounded alarm bells on her dulled social senses.
This...this distance...isn't it too close?! No, Christensen, calm down...you are an educated lady, you can't lose your composure...She was flustered, her body involuntarily tensed slightly, a blush crept onto her face, and her gaze darted away, no longer daring to look in Kane's direction.
Kane remained oblivious to Kristen's inner turmoil, still gently assessing the film's potential for improvement. It wasn't until the end credits rolled that he spoke: "It's over. Go back now."
“Oh…okay! What a…um…good movie!” Christensen stood up abruptly, her voice unnaturally light as she tried to hide her embarrassment.
"I...I'll go back and study it more carefully! Hehe..." The blush on her face hadn't faded, and her eyes darted away.
Kane looked at her flustered expression and sighed silently: Only realizing it now? Her reaction time is far too slow. He couldn't help but worry: if Christensen were to encounter a malicious scheme in the future, would she really be able to handle it?
As we left the theater, the receptionist witnessed Christensen's flushed face and flustered demeanor, her eyes blazing with even more gossip—the "love story" between the cool, handsome Rupert and the elegant Perrot was truly entertaining!
The next morning, the sky was slightly bright.
Kane and Kristen sent reminder messages almost simultaneously via their terminals. Upon seeing each other's "Good morning" and "Ready," a knowing smile involuntarily crept onto their lips, even through the screen.
After quickly washing up, they headed to campus. Their goal was clear: to secure seats in the study areas equipped with terminals directly connected to the campus system. Trimont Polytechnic boasts luxurious facilities, providing students with optimal resources.
With only a minute or two left until six o'clock, Christensen confirmed that her account was logged in and habitually glanced around—partly to be wary of potential hostile stares, and partly to subconsciously search for that familiar figure.
Her gaze swept across several rows of tables and chairs, and her eyes met Kane's unexpectedly. There was no wave, no word. Maintaining a rational distance, they simply nodded slightly, their lips conveying the same message in almost simultaneous, silent lip movements:
"come on."
It was an unspoken understanding between comrades, and the most concise and powerful encouragement between two rational souls on the "battlefield".
Chapter 22 Boxing Training
[High Energy Physics – Hall White, passed. Originium Applications Science – Gemma Benitez, passed; Film Appreciation and Production – Lucia Mills, passed; Human Biology – Letty Jefferson, passed.]
The system interface was a vibrant green, a symbol of success. Kane stretched his body, which had become slightly stiff from sitting for so long. Getting up early to secure a campus terminal, taking advantage of its low latency, and knowing the target course wasn't top-tier or popular, meant securing the position was inevitable. Of course, the system had already displayed the "No. 1 Professor" position—symbols of academic excellence—as an unselectable gray area—which Kane wasn't surprised by. He was certain this wasn't solely due to students getting up early; it confirmed his initial assessment: Columbia's elite had already used their extensive networks and resources to pave shortcuts for their descendants.
In contrast, consider Christen Wright. Even though the Wright family is now infamous, a fallen giant is still a giant. Top-tier educational resources would be readily available to her if she were willing to utilize a portion of the family's remaining wealth. However, she chose a cautious approach, precisely targeting the most suitable professors based on her own circumstances. This clear-headedness and pragmatic attitude further convinced Kane that her future ability to manage the unruly directors of Rhine Life College was no accident.
As Kane stood up, students began to stream into the library. Clearly, the "secret" of the "faster response time of the on-campus system" had spread among both new and returning students. Christine's figure was already gone—she had presumably finished her course with ease and wisely left quietly before becoming the center of attention.
Kane also had no intention of staying long. There was no real academic pressure in the two weeks before the trial period ended, so staying on campus was pointless. But he also didn't plan to return to his residence on Henry Avenue. One thought kept lingering in his mind—"to address his weakness in close combat."
Two weeks of peaceful life in the ivory tower did not diminish his goals. He knew that if he wanted to leave Columbia's protection and step into the chaotic wilderness of Terra in the future, strength—especially the hard strength that could determine life and death—was the only passport.
He brought up the terminal's search interface and began looking for places to learn boxing and fighting techniques. The world of Terra deeply values individual combat prowess. The flames of war have never truly subsided, and the unpredictability of Originium Arts fuels everyone's desire to explore their own potential. It's common for retired officers and soldiers to open training grounds to teach military skills; in the distant Yan Kingdom, martial arts schools abound, and the legends of chivalrous heroes are deeply ingrained in people's minds.
Because of social stability and legal restrictions, Colombia cannot openly research dangerous methods; in Yan Country, Kane could join a martial arts school and learn martial arts skills to protect himself.
"Beyond Boxing Gym..." Kane's gaze locked onto the top of the search results. The description proclaimed it "Tremont's most prestigious," having produced twelve boxing champions since its founding, four of whom were Colombian national champions, with the remainder achieving honors in the professional boxing world. However, Kane's goal wasn't limited to the complex rules of boxing "competition." He needed efficient, deadly, and practical fighting techniques—hoping that this renowned gym held instructors who could teach real "hard skills."
Following the navigation, Kane quickly arrived at his destination. The immense success had spawned a scale befitting its size—more of a professional, multi-functional sports center than a boxing gym. Its building volume far exceeded that of a typical office building, and its interior facilities were comprehensive: the professional octagonal boxing ring was just the core, with most of the space occupied by various cutting-edge training equipment and efficient management areas.
"Kane?" A calm, highly recognizable voice sounded from behind.
Kane turned around and unexpectedly saw Saria. She was carrying a large, sharply styled handbag, and her usual school uniform had been replaced by a simple and neat tracksuit. This outfit perfectly matched the sculpted, understated yet powerful lines of her body, instantly explaining the source of those training marks.
“Saria,” Kane nodded in response.
Are you a member here?
“Yes.” Saria’s gaze swept quickly over Kane, carrying an evaluative tone. He showed no signs of long-term training; his demeanor leaned more towards…unrefined “refinement.” If he had come on a whim, Saria wouldn’t be surprised. But if he could persevere…Saria’s assessment of this student would gain even more weight.
"Are you interested in boxing?" Her tone was calm, revealing no emotion.
(II) "When you're out and about, you can't expect judges and police to be there all the time. It's necessary to learn some self-defense techniques. Could you please introduce this place?"
"follow me."
Without any further pleasantries, Saria turned and walked inside. With this senior member leading the way, Kane bypassed the exhibition area open to the public and went straight into the core training arena—several standard octagonal cages were distributed throughout. At that moment, two of the arenas were in use: one where a coach was instructing students on basic movements, and the other where two boxers were engaged in intense sparring, the sound of gloves clashing echoing in the empty arena.
"Mike!" Saria strode towards the front desk, her voice not loud but carrying an undeniable air of command:
"Get him a set of training clothes that fit. Put the cost on my card."
The receptionist, known as Mike, reacted quickly, his attitude respectful yet carrying a hint of… awe? Was it stemming from a love for his job, or… a deep understanding of the member before him?
Saria took off her sports jacket, revealing a form-fitting training vest underneath. Her beautiful curves were naturally displayed, but even more striking were the clearly defined muscle lines—each muscle brimming with explosive power. The previous questions about Mike's attitude seemed to have been answered.
"Here are your training clothes, sir. The changing room is over there." Mike handed over the clothes.
"Thank you." Kane accepted it.
When he changed into his training clothes and walked out of the locker room, Saria had already completed an efficient warm-up and was deftly wrapping thick training pads around her hands. There were no other coaches around.
Kane looked at Saria, his eyes questioning.
"Don't just stand there." Saria's voice was calm and even, as if stating a given fact.
"Come here. I'll personally test your talent."
"?"
Kane later learned that Seria was not only a top member but also a seasoned coach with professional certifications. Her boxing rank was top-tier even in Colombia, and due to her youth, she was widely regarded as a strong contender for the future boxing championship. She had already obtained her rank and coaching qualifications through rigorous examinations while attending high school in her previous city. After transferring to Tremont, "Beyond" gym naturally spared no expense in signing this dazzling new star with lucrative terms.
Chapter 23 Exceptional Talent
Kane put on his slightly bulky boxing gloves and stepped into the cold octagon, facing off against the adult and expert Vayvan.
Hmph... Is this the biological instinctual stress response to a threat? Kane clearly felt his tail uncontrollably bristle slightly, each hair standing on end, a primal alertness and a barely perceptible excitement surging within him.
“Then, you go first.” Saria raised the target, her eyes focused and calm.
"it is good."
Kane took a step forward, gathering all his strength—more on Rupert's instinct than skill—and threw a punch. The gauntlet slammed heavily onto the hand pad that Saria had steadily raised, producing a dull thud.
The momentum was decent, but in Saria's eyes, there were signs of an amateur everywhere: the path of force exertion, center of gravity control, footwork coordination... there was still a lot of room for improvement.
"Not bad." Saria's evaluation was concise and objective, without any hint of praise or criticism.
"continue."
Kane remained completely unfazed. If he could unleash a beautiful combination of punches right now, he wouldn't be standing here.
However, perhaps driven by rational thinking, or perhaps awakened by the dormant fighting spirit in Rupert's bloodline by the powerful Vayvan before him, he felt his blood temperature rising quietly. A primal impulse to shake or even "defeat" the diamond barrier before him was spreading quietly along his nerve pathways.
"Your punching power is decent. Have you had any systematic training?" Saria's voice was calm and steady, revealing no emotional fluctuations, as if she were recording data.
“Strictly speaking, no.” Kane’s answer was equally calm. The long period of slumber in the life support pod, followed by only basic rehabilitation to maintain vital signs after awakening—systematic strength training? That was never on his schedule.
"Then your talent is quite outstanding." Saria's evaluation was exceptionally brief, yet weighty. She adjusted the position of her target.
"Next, we will test dynamic defense and evasion capabilities."
"How to test?"
"I'll attack, you'll be responsible for blocking and dodging."
At this moment, Kane finally understood the source of that fleeting pity in Mike's eyes at the front desk.
The essence of boxing goes far beyond simple offense. Agile footwork, strategic timing of defense, and the ability to quickly recover from a blow—these elements collectively form the foundation of effective combat. The same applies to the more brutal close-quarters fighting. While strength and speed are advantages, overwhelming power in one area will ultimately expose fatal weaknesses. Only by minimizing weaknesses can one increase their chances of survival and victory.
Kane donned the heavy hand pads for blocking, while Saria changed into standard boxing gloves. The gloves and hand pads touched symbolically—the signal that the fight had begun.
Saria's straight punch struck without warning! A perfect power chain transmitted from her heel to her fist, so fast it even created a short, explosive sound in the air! Kane's gaze never left Saria; his powerful dynamic vision and information processing abilities acted like a high-speed scanner, precisely capturing the subtle contractions of every muscle and the instantaneous trajectory of her weight shift. The instant Saria's punch began to take shape, Kane's neural signals had already driven his arm to complete the interception trajectory calculation.
Thump! A dull impact. Kane's hand pad caught the powerful straight punch firmly.
This is just the beginning…
Kane remained unfazed. This was no turn-based game. The first punch was merely the prologue; what followed was sure to be a furious onslaught. Having weathered the initial attack, it was far from time to let his guard down.
He was highly focused, and his hand pad precisely intercepted Saria's second follow-up attack! Saria had already made her judgment—amazing dynamic vision and reflexes. Kane was not reacting passively, but had anticipated and planned his attack the instant her intentions became apparent. This keen insight into an opponent's initial movements is an instinct that boxers often develop through hundreds of real fights. Saria decided to test the limits of this "newbie."
Her footwork suddenly changed! Her feet were firmly planted on the ground, yet she could unleash a lightning-fast forward strike in an instant! The fists, already containing explosive power, were amplified exponentially by the kinetic energy of the coordinated impact of her entire body!
Kane's dynamic vision and reflexes remained effective, allowing him to accurately detect every feint and shift in balance that Saria made. However, as the pace of his attacks accelerated exponentially, his body could no longer keep up with the speed of his nerve signals! He could "see" the punches and "calculate" their trajectories, but the speed of his muscle activation and the coordination of his body were nearing their limits.
A parry missed! The perfect defensive rhythm crumbled instantly! Saria's attacks rained down like a storm! But the experienced boxer precisely controlled her force, and the subsequent barrage of punches landed on Kane with only the sound of light taps. Kane knew that in a life-or-death struggle, these missed punches would be enough to end his life.
“Kane, are you sure that you haven’t received any form of combat training before this moment?” Saria stopped what she was doing, her breathing as steady as if she had just taken a walk, and scrutinized him sharply.
"Does my physical condition look like I've undergone systematic training?" Kane asked rhetorically, moving his arm, which was slightly numb from the high-frequency blocking.
“It certainly doesn’t look like it.” Saria nodded slightly, a rare hint of genuine surprise flashing in her eyes.
"This is even more surprising. With your current reaction and observation skills, as long as you systematically improve your power generation techniques and basic physical fitness, you have the potential to directly challenge for the ranks of top-tier boxers."
This was her calm assessment based on her professional expertise. Kane's talent for observation and reaction was nothing short of monstrous; if not for his current frail physical condition, Saria even doubted whether she could have so easily breached his defenses. This far exceeded the scope of the Lupo race's racial instincts; it was more like some kind of…unique talent.
“But unfortunately, Saria.” Kane removed the target, his gaze calm.
"My goal is not the honors in the boxing ring. What I need to master is the fighting techniques that can ensure my survival in real life-or-death situations."
Saria remained silent for a moment, her gaze as steady as a rock, and analyzed according to Kane's request:
"It's not complicated. Strip away the restrictions of boxing rules—all the prohibited striking areas, all the restricted ruthless techniques—and master them. The core principle remains the same: use your hardest part, with the fastest speed and the greatest power, to precisely destroy your opponent's most vulnerable vitals. That's all." In her view, stripping away the fancy rules, the essence of combat returns to its primitive and efficient form: power, speed, and precision.
“Then, if I become a member here,” Kane looked at Saria, his tone tinged with inquiry.
"Could it be that you're the coach who's in charge of teaching me?"
“If you want to,” Saria answered crisply and directly, without any hesitation or politeness.
“Shan Si Ling Qi Er (4) Ba Zhuo I accept this commission.”
"Heh." Kane's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile. In the realm of knowledge, he could use his superior computing power to learn with overwhelming force. But the tempering of this body, every increase in strength, every improvement in speed, could only be cultivated through sweat and time. There were no shortcuts. After all, his spine didn't harbor a companion capable of hand-to-hand combat with the Ursus guards.
From then on, Kane's days became exceptionally fulfilling. After his daytime classes, his "club activities" time was filled with grueling training led by Saria. This rigorous, almost demanding coach tailored a meticulous training plan for him. Under the combined influence of Instructor Vayvan's iron-fisted supervision and the potential of his Lupo physique, Kane's body was adapting and transforming at an unprecedented speed.
It's worth mentioning that in Kane's elective "Film Appreciation and Production" class, he unexpectedly bumped into Muirsey. This energetic and lively girl had clearly also chosen this light and enjoyable "refresher course" for herself. This serendipitous arrangement perfectly made up for the regret that the two hadn't interacted in their other major courses.
Chapter 24 Murder Case?
As the gears of life mesh and turn day after day, time slips away silently like a rushing stream. Before he knew it, Kane had spent a full month in the academic halls of Trimont Polytechnic University. With the courses finalized, the professors finally shed their gentle, trial-lecture masks, revealing the true brilliance of their respective fields.